Illusions of the Heart
by justfandomwritings
Summary: Perhaps she should have been offended that the eye gave her the Devil's card, but then again, she always preferred her magic a little bit mischievous.


_Those who don't believe in magic will never find it._

_Roald Dahl_

* * *

"And as you can see," Gillian slid her thumb over the edge of the pages, splaying each sheet out for everyone watching to see they were all blank. "There's nothing particularly interesting about the paper. I bought it at an art store up the street." Knowing they didn't care, Gillian quickly added a teasing, "Not that I would recommend you doing the same; they're definitely overcharging."

A few chuckles went around the onlookers who'd heard her dig, but it did little more than keeping them engaged.

The crowd was three people deep tonight. Not great, but certainly not bad. She'd make enough that she wouldn't have to pick any pockets.

As was expected, Gillian held up the pad and showed the top sheet to the people packed into the front row before turning it over to show the flimsy backing. She flicked the cardboard back and forth with her thumb just to show there was no substance to it, that it wasn't thick enough to be hiding anything important.

Gilian set the sketchpad back on her easel and plopped down on the rickety wooden stool she'd commandeered from a dumpster around the corner from her apartment. Quickly diving in before anything more could be said, she began her first sketch of the night.

Tonight, no one commented on it, and Gillian was more than a little relieved. She was still developing this act, and inevitably every night someone in the crowd had call Gillian out and ask to inspect the rest of her materials. Men loved rifling through the tiny drawers of her easel looking for switches or hidden compartments. Kids scrutinized her pencils as if they knew what an artist's materials looked like from their school finger paintings. Women eyed the wobble of her stool suspiciously and peaked under the zippers of her bag.

Gillian didn't actually mind that they looked. It was the time delay that bothered Gillian more than anything. When she sat down, she was ready and in the zone. Stopping so people could poke around took her out of it and set her on edge even if she knew they wouldn't find anything. Every magician had something to hide, but no decent magician hid anything where a spectator could reach it. And Gillian liked to think herself a little more than a decent magician.

Her artistic prowess however was not more than decent. It was barely average. The resulting picture on the page was little more than a shape, drawn in rough, short strokes from the lead of her pencil.

The crude outline of a vase graced the canvas as Gillian reached behind the easel, and the crowd gasped.

Her hand came back into view with a bright red container balanced on her palm, exactly the shape as the one she'd drawn. But that wasn't what had made the crowd gasp. Making things appear out of thin air only got mild applause on the circuit these days.

But as she reached behind the easel, the crowd saw Gillian's hand, seemingly drawn in the same rough graphite style as the picture, creep into the frame, wrap around the vase, and drag it off the edge of the paper.

"What?" Gillian turned on her stool holding the vase aloft. "Something wrong?"

A little boy in the front row was pointing wildly at the paper, and Gillian faked her surprise when she glanced back to find the paper completely blank of the figure she'd drawn moments before.

"Oh no!" She frowned down at the contents of her hands, the pencil and the vase. "I didn't get to draw flowers!"

Gillian put the vase back behind the easel, and the crowd awed as they saw her hand and the vase appear on the paper facing them once more. The art moved in sync with her real hand, appearing and disappearing from the paper with the movements of her own hand.

"What's your favorite kind of flower?" There was a little girl standing next to the boy who'd been shocked by the disappearing drawing, and Gillian was always fond of involving children in the show the way street magicians had done for her when she was a kid.

"Sunflowers!" The little girl exclaimed.

Sunflowers. It was always sunflowers. Gillian assumed it was a combination of that being a very bright and flashy flower that attracted children and also an easy one to remember.

"Sunflowers it is then," Gillian did her best.

With enough time, she could draw a pretty decent sunflower, but time was the enemy of magicians and street performers. As a magician, she never wanted to give them the time to figure out how something was done, and as a street performer she never wanted them to lose interest.

Three doodles of something vaguely resembling the open-faced, yellow blooms came out of the red vase she'd already put to paper, and the little girl squealed with delight when Gillian reached behind her easel to display the vase, now featuring the three flowers.

"Would you like one?" Gillian spun to hold out the vase to the girl who'd requested them, and the girl quickly snatched one up.

"Thank you!" She beamed.

"You're welcome."

And when Gillian put the vase back behind the paper, there were only two flowers in the drawing that returned, to much applause.

* * *

"I don't think Anna or Lucas is going to forget that any time soon."

Gillian smiled and waved goodbye to the siblings hiding behind their mother's legs. "I hope not. My brother and I got our start watching street performers too. The world can always use a little more magic!"

The pristinely manicured mother of the two children was pleasant enough to enjoy watching the show, but clearly did not like the suggestion that either of her offspring would end up doing something as commonplace as street magic.

"Yes," She smiled with a curl to her upper lip, "you were very impressive." Glancing down at her kids, she murmured, "Come along now. Mommy has to get you home for dinner."

Gillian watched the woman's back retreat and only just managed to hold her tongue till they were out of earshot, "Not impressive enough for you to leave a tip." Slipping her hand in her back pocket, Gillian thumbed over the diamond bracelet with a gleeful smile, "At least, not willingly."

Normally, she'd be packing her things and running for the hills to avoid the woman coming back in time, but Gillian lazed around talking to the handful of onlookers who'd hung around to ask questions.

"And what's that you drew there?" The last one, a handsome businessman who'd caught the show on his way home, pointed to the easel. He'd hung back for nearly twenty minutes, and Gillian could feel him angling towards at least getting her number or taking her home. Not that she was at all complaining, he was far more attractive than the usual male, magic groupies.

"Oh it'll just be the…" She glanced back, expecting to explain that the bird on the paper was meant to be a dove.

But it wasn't. The dove was gone. Someone had torn off the sheet of paper she'd been working on. On the blank space piece beneath was an illustration of a card, far more detailed than any of her own designs. Though that wasn't what baffled her. There, in the center, was an eye.

Gillian didn't register the man calling out for her as she completely abandoned his conversation. With slow, deliberate steps, she approached her stand.

"That's not possible," She whispered to herself as she advanced. Gillian wasn't sure if the man was still behind her, but even if he had been he wouldn't have heard.

"Please," she practically begged as her held slid behind the back of the easel and felt around.

And there it was.

Gillian felt the rounded edge tucked between the cardboard and the wooden mount. As gently as she possibly could, Gillian slipped the card out of its hiding place and watched for herself this time as it disappeared from the top page.

* * *

"Jack!" Gillian came running through the door of their apartment at top speed. Her bag slung over one shoulder and her easel tucked under the other, she'd abandoned her stool on the street corner in her haste to rush home.

"Jack!" Gillian yelled louder as her brother didn't immediately come running to the door.

"In here," Jack called from behind the wall to his room.

Gillian dropped her easel with a crash and went racing through his door. "Jack, today on the street I..."

Gillian trailed off in awe.

Jack sat on the corner of his bed staring down at his palms, only looking up as his sister flew into the room.

Lying face upon in his hands, staring back at the pair of them, was an eye.

Gillian numbly lifted her right hand, holding up the card for her brother to see. "You got one too."

"Yeah," He mumbled, turning his incredulous gaze back to his own. "I did."

"What did you get?" Gillian circled around and plopped down beside her brother, looking over his shoulder.

Jack flipped over his card and showed her the tarot on the other side. "Death. You?"

Gillian held her card out next to his, "The Devil."

* * *

_**I wrote this randomly. And I didn't really take the time to edit it, because I don't know if it's a good idea or even a good start. I just watched the movie for the umpteenth time and felt like writing something.**_

_**Please let me know what you think.**_


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